Runny03 - Loose Lips (33 page)

“See, a real mother wouldn’t swear like that in front of a little one.”

Julia, face reddening, cursed through her teeth. “Shut your goddamned trap.”

“I beg your pardon.” Louise’s voice was hollow.

“You’ll beg more than my pardon. You raised your children your way and I’m raising my child my way. And don’t you ever pull this growing-inside-yourself stunt on me again or so help me God, I will knock all those gold fillings right down your throat.”

“Don’t be so touchy.”

“If you’d think before you opened your mouth you wouldn’t get in half the messes you do.” Juts bumped Louise with her shoulder, forcing her sister to shift her weight.

“People who live in glass houses—”

“Shouldn’t throw stones.”

“A bird in the hand—”

“Is worth two in the bush. Birds of a feather—”

“Flock together.”

“A rolling stone—”

“Gathers no moss.” Wheezie smiled, as they pushed open the picket-fence gate. She studied Nickel, who didn’t look like a Hunsenmeir although Rillma Ryan was related to Cora on the maternal line, the Black Irish line, actually. It crossed her mind that it might be an odd experience for a brown-eyed child to grow up in a home where the father was blond with gray eyes and the mother had honey-brown hair and lustrous gray eyes also. When her girls looked at her they could see themselves, sort of, but Nickel wouldn’t have that sensation. In Louise’s mind that had to matter. It never occurred to her that the child might feel freer because of not having just such ties and expectations.

“Louise, being a mother is a lot harder than I thought, but raising a child has nothing to do with blood.” Juts, drained after her fright, didn’t have the energy to lambast Louise for her natural-mother slam.

“Don’t you see that everything you do now pays off later? You can’t let a child run around—”

“I took my eye off of her for one second.”

“That’s all it takes. Look at what happened to Talia BonBon.” Talia’s little boy had drowned in a swimming pool the year before. Her attention had been diverted for just a few moments. Everyone had blamed her, too, which made it even more awful. “I don’t want you to have any more heartache than you’ve already had. She’s a determined little thing and she needs a strong hand. They’re like animals, Julia, you’ve got to take control of them or
they’ll ruin your house, spend your money, and leave without so much as a thank-you. My God, look at the whole Bitters clan. I think Extra Billy is the only one who’s tried to make something of himself and he’s still plenty rough around the edges. You’ve got to be firm.”

Juts replied, “Sometimes I think you have all the pearls without the string.”

T
he hay swayed green in the fields. Spring, again early this year, helped everyone’s crop get off to a good start, and farmers predicted that if the weather held, they’d get three cuttings, rich cuttings.

Chester belonged to the don’t-count-your-chickens-before-they’re-hatched school of life. In the evenings he was finishing a tack room for Harry Mundis, who wanted to live like an English lord. Of course, the real English lords had lost so much in two world wars that many of them shivered in cold houses to save money on their heating bills. Harder still, some were beginning to break up the great estates. But Harry was making a bloody fortune, first in fulfilling government contracts during the war, then in tearing down those same buildings after the war and selling the stuff to contractors. Nothing illegal about it so long as he identified the materials as used, which he always did. Since money was
tight after the war, many a person was happy to get bricks, timber, siding, and gutters at a reduced price. The steel he stockpiled.

For the Mundises to catapult from their former station to rivals of the Rifes and Chalfontes in splendor aroused admiration, envy, and even bewilderment. Mary Miles was among the bewildered. She wanted her old friends, her old habits; she even liked her old house better. Not that she didn’t like having money; she did, but she saw no reason to put on the dog—except when it came to new cars. She loved cars, as did most people in her generation, born before the internal-combustion machine. They were mesmerized by them.

Chester knocked off work as the sun’s slanting rays cast long golden shadows. He drove through the square, stopping to double-check at the hardware store. Trudy was locking up her husband’s jewelry store. He looked in the other direction. Since that painful night of the air raid he had only spoken to her to end the affair.

For a long time he felt like a dead man. Everyone’s attentions had been focused on Juts. No one paid attention to his grief. He had no doubt that Trudy, too, felt dreadful for a time—and hated his guts. When she married Senior Epstein he felt both jealous and relieved. Jacob, a good man, would no longer be lonely and Trudy would have a solid husband.

Chester had never imagined the marriage vows would be so hard to keep. He vacillated between being ashamed of himself and believing he wasn’t so horribly wrong in trying to grab more happiness out of life. He didn’t bargain on that happiness causing equivalent sorrow.

Whatever else, he loved his little girl. He opened the door, Buster rushed up, Juts called out from the kitchen, and Nicky ran up to him as fast as her legs would carry her. “Daddy!” It didn’t exactly sound like “Daddy” but he knew what she meant.

“How’s my scout? How’s my best girl?” He kissed her and
swung her around. She squealed. Buster watched with interest. He kissed her again and put her down but she hung on to his leg. So he walked into the kitchen with the two-year-old plastered to his leg. “Have you ever seen such a big bug?”

Juts laughed. “Your big bug was a naughty girl today.”

“Oh?” He shook his leg to more delighted squeals.

“Walked down to the corner and sat smack in the middle of the road, and Chessy, I swear—Louise can be my witness because she was here—I took my eyes off her for about a skinny minute.”

“Did you do that?”

Nickel shook her head no.

“Scared me so bad I had to come in and take two aspirin. I’ve still got the headache, though. She needs a leash.”

Chester reached down and picked up Nicky. “You’re not a big bug. You’re a doggy. How about if I get you a leash to match Buster’s?”

She nodded yes to that, then put her arms around his neck and laid her cheek next to his.

Chester had never known love like this existed. He only knew that being a father had changed his life forever. He finally felt like a man. He avoided conflict when he could, but if he couldn’t, now he met it square on. This fact did not escape notice by his wife, mother, or his friends—nor did his radiant happiness whenever anyone happened to mention Nickel’s name: Chester, fastest draw in Maryland, whipped out a photograph of his daughter, the most wonderful, the most beautiful, the smartest little girl in the universe. She was also, occasionally, the baddest. And she brought him and Juts back together.

“No playing in the road, scout.”

She stared at him with solemn eyes. “Uh—” Her conversational skills hadn’t advanced far enough for her to say why she wanted to go into the middle of the road.

“How about chicken corn soup for supper?”

Juts thought a minute. “Well, it’s kind of warm for that, isn’t it?”

“I don’t care, honey, you know me. I’ll eat anything that doesn’t eat me first.” He put Nickel on the ground but she stuck right to him.

Julia put her finger up alongside her nose, a curious gesture, borrowed from Celeste Chalfonte. “I’ll fry some chicken and—”The phone rang, distracting her. “Damn, my hands are wet.”

“I’ll get it.” He listened for the two rings, their signal on the party line, then hurried to the landing and picked up the phone. He listened intently for a moment. “We’ll be right over.”

“Juts, Hansford’s—” he considered his words, “collapsed.”

She dried her hands on a dish towel and threw it over her shoulder, quickly turned off the stove, and stared at Nickel. Juts didn’t know what to expect when they got to her mother’s. What did “collapsed” mean?

“Maybe we’d better not take the baby. I wonder if Ramelle would watch her.”

His voice soft, he said, “I don’t think there’s time, honey.”

They drove to Cora’s. Afterward Julia had no memory of the trip at all. She felt as if she were underwater but she didn’t know why. She thought she didn’t care about Hansford. Seeing Louise’s car already there reassured her, yet frightened her also.

Chester carried Nickel inside. Her eyes widened. She sensed the emotion. He handed the baby to Mary, who was sitting with Extra Billy, little Oderuss, and Maizie in the parlor, and followed his wife into the small bedroom. Hansford, propped up in bed, struggled to breathe.

Cora dabbed his brow with cool cloths. Juts sat on the other side of the bed while Louise stood at the end, facing him.

The racking sound of his labored gasps for air reverberated in the room. Despite his pain and hunger for air he was alert. He held out his hand to Julia Ellen, who took it and burst into tears. He patted her hand.

“Don’t worry, Pop,” she cried. “You’ll be all right.”

He smiled at her. It was the first time she had called him Pop.

Chester stood alongside Juts. Paul took the bowl of water to the kitchen and brought back another one with ice cubes floating in it. Louise remained rooted to the spot.

“The children!” Hansford gasped.

Louise snapped to at last, fetching Mary, Maizie, Oderuss, and Nickel.

Maizie knelt by her grandfather’s side, next to Cora. He touched her head as though anointing her. Mary wouldn’t kneel but he reached for her hand and she gave it to him. Oderuss hid his face behind his hands. When Nickel started to whimper, Chester lifted her from Mary. Hansford motioned for the baby, and Chester got down on one knee, the baby perched on the other knee so Hansford could reach her. He touched her smooth cheek.

“PopPop’s going bye-byes.” He smiled at her sad face. “No!” She startled everyone with the volume. “Sh-sh.” Chessy bounced her on his knee but she’d have none of it.

“No! PopPop stay.” She burst into tears. She may not have liked PopPop’s beard and his odor of chewing tobacco, but she liked him.

For the first time tears rolled down Hansford’s cheeks, disappearing in his beard, which Cora had carefully combed. He shook his head, his eyes cast over his family. He had squandered his life. He had abandoned Cora, Louise, and Julia. His return, drenched in need and suppressed sorrow, had taught him how much real love was worth but also how some fences could never be mended. And now it was too late to tell someone else, some other man fleeing from claustrophobic responsibility. Not only must a man have the courage to stand in battle, he needed the courage to stand at home. Hansford’s greatest fear as a young man had been entrapment in this go-nowhere town. He’d feared missing out on
the world. Instead he had become trapped by his own selfishness and missed out on love.

“Hansford, let me carry you to the hospital,” Chester said.

Pearlie whispered to Chessy, “There isn’t time.”

Hansford pointed to Louise but she wouldn’t come closer.

“Louise, for the love of God,” her mother implored.

“Who truly owns this land?” Louise asked coldly.

Hansford pointed to Cora.

“Louise”—Cora spoke firmly—“make peace with your father lest it rest heavy on your heart for the rest of your days.”

“My father?” Louise’s voice dripped with poison from that old wound. “My father would have taken care of us, Momma. What about the times there wasn’t enough to eat?”

“Celeste never let us go hungry.”

“You didn’t go to work for Celeste right off.”

“This is no time for that kind of talk. Relieve his suffering and forgive him. Someday someone may have to forgive you, Daughter.” Cora wrung out the cloth.

“I guess I’m not as good a Catholic as I thought.” Louise turned on her heel and left.

Mary and Maizie, horrified, quickly kissed Hansford’s hand and followed their mother.

“I’m sorry,” Pearlie said to the man shrinking before his very eyes. “She’s upset. She doesn’t mean what she says.”

Cora grabbed a dry cloth to wipe his cheeks and beard. Hansford blinked and reached for Pearlie’s hand. Pearlie squeezed it, then let go of Hansford’s hand.

Pearlie joined his wife in the parlor. He had his hands full with her.

Hansford reached for Julia’s hand. “Forgive—?” was all he could rasp.

“I forgive you, Pop. I wish you hadn’t left us. But I forgive you.”

He squeezed her hand again, then released it. He smiled at
her, then he reached for Chester, who held the baby in one arm. He held Hansford’s hand in the other.

“She … needs … you.” Hansford pointed to the baby with his other hand. He made stabbing motions with his finger, trying to communicate further.

“I’ll do my best, sir. I’ll die for them both if I have to.” Chester started crying, too.

Hansford smiled again and spoke his last words. “Live … for … them.”

Then he sat bolt upright with a burst of energy. He reached for Cora, who held him with all her might as he surrendered his spirit to whatever adventure beckoned beyond.